


A picnic en costume

by gloss



Category: Solo: A Star Wars Story (2018)
Genre: Banter, M/M, cons and schemes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:33:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23520871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gloss/pseuds/gloss
Summary: Han bails Lando out of prison. They're both up to something.
Relationships: Lando Calrissian/Han Solo
Comments: 10
Kudos: 36
Collections: Party in the GFFA: Star Wars Flash Exchange 2020





	A picnic en costume

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lady_needless_litany](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_needless_litany/gifts).



> “Life is a pic-nic en costume; one must take a part, assume a character, stand ready in a sensible way to play the fool” \- Herman Melville, **The Confidence Man**

When he's pushed out of general population and shunted onto a moving corridor that creeps up to the public areas of the prison, Lando knows that nothing good can be in store for him. He's been locked up for three months, give or take; while he has several plans gelling at various stages, none of them are anywhere near ready for action. 

The heavy steel door clangs shut behind him. He's trapped between it and a single electrified security barricade, waist-high, which has now buzzed off to allow him to pass. 

"No, please —" Lando stops in his tracks and covers his face with his hands. When he speaks again, his voice is very soft. "Get him out of here."

He's not talking to anyone in particular. This is more a general plea to the Force and universe-at-large.

"Hi, friend!" Han calls from the other side of the security barrier. He elbows the droid beside him. "That's him, the guy I was telling you about. Notorious for sharp style and even sharper card play."

"Go away!" Lando shouts.

"I paid your bail!"

"I don't care!"

Han puts both hands around his mouth to make sure his voice carries. All of the six or so meters now separating them. "I paid your bail! You're welcome!"

"Thank you! Get the hell out of here!"

The droid mutters something and Han nods, acknowledging the comment with a deep sigh. "He's very independent. Doesn't know when to shut up and accept kindness, even from —" He raises his voice. "— old friends who just have his best interests at heart!"

Lando makes a show of looking over his shoulder, one, then the other. "Where? Old friends?"

Throwing back his head and laughing heartily, Han grabs Lando around the neck and hauls him close. "Such a cut-up, this guy!" Against Lando's ear, he whispers, "play along, I've got this."

Like a child. He's like a _child_ , playing adult games.

"You really don't." Lando disengages from the embrace and cocks his head to appraise Han. He's as rough-edged as ever, finally starting to fill out a little through those promisingly broad shoulders. "You need a haircut. And what _is_ this?" He fingers the clingy, cheap fabric of Han's jersey. 

"This came very dear, I'll have you know!" Han throws out his chest to show off the hideous jersey to even worse advantage. Han's skin is hot beneath the fabric; when Lando slips two fingertips between fasteners to tease him, Han actually gulps a few times. "Lady who sold it to me said it was one of a kind."

"Wonderful," Lando replies. He sets off for the discharge window and exchanges his prison cuff for what few personal belongings he had on him when they hauled him in here. "Let's hope she was telling the truth."

"As for haircuts, well — well —" Han splutters on whatever retort he'd half-dreamed up. 

Lando glances coolly at him and raises an eyebrow.

"You look like shit!" Han concludes.

"Indeed, and I feel even worse than that," Lando says. "Except I have the excuse of having been locked in a hole with the galaxy's worst refuse for three months. What's yours?"

Han dogs his heels as Lando makes his way outside. He's trying to think of how he'll get into the city — preferably off this rock, of course, but he'll need to take his challenges in order — while Han splutters and grumbles.

"Chewie's back home," Han says. 

"Too bad," Lando says. "Of your very strange partnership, he is by far the highlight."

"No, that's my excuse." Han huffs out a breath to clear the overlong hair from his eyes. "For the hair."

"What _are_ you up to, Solo?" Lando steers them toward a speeder rental, then steps aside so Han can pay.

"What? Nothing!" 

"Mm-hmm, of course, I see." Lando gets on the speeder behind Han and wraps his arms around his waist. "Get us into the city center, find us some baths, and I'll listen to whatever terrible cockeyed-plan you've dreamed up this time."

*

He feels like a new man. No, better: after the long hot soak and full shave with massage, Lando smells like freshly-crushed mint and feels like himself again. He lets Han buy him three courses at a nearby Corellian bistro and pretends not to notice the anxious hunch to Han's shoulders as he counts out his credits. To draw attention to a man's dire straits would be rude, after all.

"So," Lando says, when the dishes are cleared away and they have fresh tea in their bowls. Han has a streak of spicy mustard down the front of his ugly shirt, but that might be an improvement. "What's your scheme?"

"No scheme," Han replies, eyes darting. "Why do you think it's a scheme?"

"You tracked me down in the ass-end of the Mid-Rim, paid my frankly outrageous and probably unconstitutional bail, and got me clean and fed out of the kindness of your heart?"

Han shifts in his seat. He works best on the run, Lando knows that. He lacks any semblance of the patience required for the long game, the delicate scheme, the intricate plan.

Lando runs the tip of his index finger around the rim of his tea bowl as he thinks things over. On the other hand, Han absolutely _excels_ at the proverbial smash-and-grab. He can talk his way out of the Emperor's shithouse and he flies like an angel hellbent on finding fun.

"What?" Han demands now. "Why are you smiling like that?"

"I can't smile at my friend?"

His eyes narrow as he considers that. "You're my friend?"

"Baby," Lando says, unfolding himself to sit forward and offer Han his freshly-manicured hand. "I can be your very best friend, if you'll let me."

Han takes the proffered hand, then watches, transfixed, as Lando kisses his palm. They both shiver and Lando rises to his feet. 

"Scheme later," he says, wrapping an arm around Han's waist. "Play now."


End file.
